


laid up

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alien Armitage Hux, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Hux is desperate, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo is gross, M/M, Mpreg, Oviposition, Situational Humiliation, kylo walks in on something he shouldnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Kylo storms into the general's quarters to continue their earlier disagreement, only to find Hux occupied with a quirk of his half-alien biology.





	laid up

**Author's Note:**

> This was inevitable if you know my content from other fandoms. Happy Easter everyone!
> 
> Half alien Hux is a fun concept. Not fun for him, I suppose, but for us.

“ _General Hux,_ ” Kylo calls as he enters the bridge, storming across the sleek floors towards the man in question. He sees Hux’s shoulders tense, detecting the usual disdain, but brushes it off. He doesn’t care what he might be interrupting, _especially_ considering what Hux has done.

“Can you tell me why exactly _your_ crew won’t allow me to access my ship?” Kylo hisses through his mask when he gets close enough, straightening his posture so he can properly intimate the general.

Kylo has _business_ to attend to in another part of the galaxy, and he needs his damned ship in order if he’s to get anywhere. But now his fighter is suspended in the hangar, awaiting repairs, and he’s _stuck_ here. All because of Hux.

Of course he can always commandeer one of the other ships. But it’s the _principle_ that matters.  

“There was damage to the life systems incurred from your last mission,” Hux replies flatly, lips pursed in a disapproving line. “It will be ready as soon as that is addressed.”

“There were only minor repairs. I could’ve done them myself.”

“I don’t work around _your_ schedule, Ren,” Hux counters, waving away the officer he’d been conversing with until Kylo’s  interruption. “I can assure you, my technicians are more than competent enough to assess the damage, fix it, and ensure no further failures.”

Kylo clenches his fist. It’s not enough that Hux placed his ship under repairs without his permission, but he’s also dismissing his concerns and downplaying Kylo’s own skill. If it becomes even more disabled because of the incompetence of his hangar crew, Hux will have _much_ more on his hands to worry about.

“I don’t appreciate you circumventing me, general,” Kylo growls, hoping it sounds like a threat, but to his disappointment Hux doesn’t really look intimidated.

In fact, he seems rather distracted. Hux keeps glancing furtively about even as he talks to Kylo. He even catches Hux slipping his hand out of the folds of his coat to rest a palm against his stomach, before retracting it again like he’s afraid to be caught. Kylo refrains from probing in his mind, but he can sense a strange unease emanating from him.

Come to think of it, his appearance is a bit different too. Hux looks like he’s gained a little bit of weight around the middle. Considering how lithe and thin he is, it’s easy to notice, even as he pulls his greatcoat around himself. Kylo can’t get the best glimpse at the swell of his belly, but he’s definitely wearing his belt higher up on his body and his uniform seems a bit tighter. Kylo smirks at that, amused. Of course someone as weak and pompous as Hux would be more prone to gaining weight, after all Kylo has never seen him in the training room or doing much physical activity at all save for striding around with his nose snootily turned up. Perhaps the stress of command is finally getting to him.

 _Good_ , Kylo thinks, taking it as a bit of revenge against the man responsible for withholding his fighter.

Hux lets out a heavy sigh, the tips of his fingerprint reappearing again to skate over the lower half of his stomach before again flitting into the shelter of his greatcoat. His cheeks look a little pinker than normal, sweat shining on his skin despite the cool air flowing through the ship.

“You will be informed when your ship is ready. As for your other concerns, we will discuss them _later_ , Ren. I have far more pressing matters to attend to.”

Kylo isn’t quite finished yet, but Hux turns on heel and strides away in a hurry, his shoulders hunched inwards. He curls his lip, tempted to use the Force to teach Hux a lesson, but restrains himself. Certainly, there will be fallout from his Master if he lays a hand on the general without proper cause.

So he storms off, the remaining bridge officers giving him a wide berth.

* * *

Despite his attempts at centering himself both via meditation and slicing through practice droids in the training room, the argument from earlier still swirls in Kylo’s mind. Eventually, he gives up on distractions and decides just to seek out Hux directly. He won’t be able to focus on anything until he settles this.

To his annoyance, Hux isn’t on the bridge, nor is he in his office. Thankfully, probing the mind of one of his petty officers provides Kylo with the proper information, and he quickly storms towards the general’s quarters, aggravation building with each step. How _dare_ Hux deny him the satisfying end to their quarrel he so deserves!

He won’t get away with this.  

When Kylo decodes the security to Hux’s quarters and pries open the door, he expects to find him at work, finishing up the last of the cycle’s reports, or perhaps enjoying a rare moment of relaxation, with no clue that it’s about to be thoroughly disrupted. Kylo lines up his well-crafted retorts in his head, practically itching to unleash them upon his hapless rival as he barges through Hux’s quarters—but all of them instantly scatter once he actually _finds_ the general.

The sight of Hux, kneeling on his bed with his hands gripping the headboard, legs spread and naked beneath the waist, is certainly a shock. As is the strange nest of blankets between his calves, and the tops of several glistening ovoid shapes settled within it. Kylo knits his brows together, puzzling at the connection—but only for a moment, because then Hux tilts his head to the side and, with a horrified bug of the eyes, notices him.

“W-what in the _blazing stars above_ are you doing here?” Hux practically screeches, his voice more hoarse and high-pitched than Kylo has ever heard it. He shoves himself away from the headboard and quickly flips around, grabbing the blankets beneath him and pulling them up over his body. Before he can do so, however, Kylo catches a glimpse of his middle—undeniably swollen, but not with the doughiness of fat. Something firmer.

As Hux violently tugs the blankets, he disturbs the little nest that sits between his legs, sending the objects inside rolling out over the bed. He lets out a choked noise of distress and shame, eyes fixed upon them, fingers clenched as if deciding between hiding his indecency and scrabbling for the loose contents. His cheeks flush deeper, and a trickle of sweat wends down his temple.

“Answer me, Ren, or better yet _leave_ , you have no clearance to be he— _agh_!” Hux cuts himself off in a cry, one hand flying to brace against his belly. Kylo can see the curve better as the sheet tightens over his middle, emphasizing its unexpected fullness.

He ignores the general’s orders and furrows his brow at the objects on the bed. They’re tapered at one end and bluntly round at the other, colored a rich, mottled red all over. Even in the dimmed light of Hux’s bedroom they appear almost iridescent, as if their surfaces flicker with humming plasma.

Kylo glances from the nest of objects to where Hux writhes on the bed, his grip on the blankets slipping. He can see the general spread his legs as he rubs the bloated curve of his belly, and remembers how he’d done the same back on the bridge The pieces click into place to form a surprising, wholly unexpected picture.

“You’re laying eggs,” Kylo states dumbly.

“Oh, _bravo_ , Ren,” Hux gasps, mockingly covering his mouth with his free hand, “I didn't realize. _Thank you_ for helping me to solve this mystery!”

The strength of the general’s sarcasm is curbed a bit as another contraction hits him. He curls his fingers tighter into the blankets, pulling them up to his chest and revealing the space between his legs. Kylo can see his hole properly now, wet with red fluid not dark enough to be blood, widened and twitching about an empty space. He cocks his head.

“You...are you having trouble?”

“I’m doing _perfectly_ fine on my own,” Hux snaps, dabbing his sweating forehead with the edge of the blanket.. “S-Sometimes...one gets stuck. It happens, it’s just…”

“Do you need help?” Kylo doesn’t know why he asks. He has no reason to want to aid his rival, other than his own morbid curiosity, but maybe that’s enough.

“Help? _No_ ,” Hux says firmly, shaking his head. “I only need you _gone_. This—this is _private_.”

But even though he’s shocked and a little disturbed by what he sees before him, Kylo can’t tear his gaze away. He never would have expected to see his rival debased to such a state—the prim, pompous General Hux, sweating and pained and giving birth to _eggs_ in his own bed.

“I thought you were only gaining weight. But you’ve actually been pregnant this whole time?” Kylo asks, still wrestling with his unexpected fascination with the whole ordeal. Hux is acting like this is _routine_ , not just a one-off misfortune or strange alien illness, which is quite the revelation.

“ _What_? Don’t be ridiculous,” Hux scoffs, still managing to sound condescending even through his stress, “these are...they’re not fertilized.”

“What do you mean, not fertilized?”

“Do you really need a sexual education _now_ , Ren?”

“I mean,” Kylo starts, tilting his head, “I feel I have a right to ask. The average human male doesn’t exactly lay eggs.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Hux snaps, digging his fingers harder into his belly. “But it’s not as if I can just ask my cycle _nicely_ to stop!”

“Cycle—?” Kylo asks before he can stop himself, and Hux rolls his eyes angrily and tries to kick out at him though he’s still standing near the door.

“ _Oh_ for stars’ sake! If you’re only going to ask useless questions, you damned obtuse _brute_ , then I kindly suggest you haul your carcass out of here and make yourself useful ruining someone else’s day!” Hux grunts, curling around himself. “I a-assure you, my day is already ruined _enough_.”

Despite his vitriol, Kylo can sense something wrong, a fear trickling in from beyond the typically impenetrable walls of the general’s mind. He latches onto it, enticed.

“I’ll say. You obviously _do_ need help, no matter what you tell me.”

Despite pain and frustration wreaking havoc on his features, Hux still manages to look at Kylo like he’s crazy.

“Preposterous. I’ve done it on my own before. Many times! I can do it again,” He insists, even as another wave of pain hits him. He clenches his teeth tightly until it passes, though he still looks miserable.

“M-Maybe this is more difficult than before but...I mean…” Hux rubs his belly, suddenly looking as unsure as Kylo senses he is. “But you...you know nothing about this. You couldn’t _possibly_ help.”

“You know I can. I can do things no one else is capable of.”

“No, you _cannot_ , you’re a tactless, intrusive _pfaasking_ bastard and I don’t need anything you could possibly give me!” Hux shouts, anger pricked by his pain, the hand not digging into his belly balling into a fist. Kylo smirks at his outburst, the insults bouncing right off. He’s more amused and fascinated by Hux’s state than wounded by what he’s saying.

“Well. If you’re going to insult me, then perhaps I should just leave you here after all If that's what you really want.” Kylo, deciding to test the resolve of the general’s words, moves towards the bedroom door.

“No, stop!” Hux says too quickly, a look of shame crossing over his face at the sudden, uncontrolled _pleading_ in his voice, at how readily he fell into Kylo’s trap. “Don’t. Ren, you’re right. I can’t...not _alone_.”

Kylo smirks, tempted to push through the door anyway and actually leave Hux to suffer on his own, but decides against it. _For curiosity’s sake_ , he reminds himself, as he approaches the bed and the flushed, pitiful man atop it, arms crossed.

“You need to be nicer to me then, general.” Kylo feels pretty smug at the way Hux had whined, practically _begged_ him to stay. He doesn’t look all that happy about it, but seems to realize there’s only one person who can help him along with this unless he wants to waddle his way over to the medbay.

Kylo kneels onto the bed, reaching a hand out to Hux, only for the man to recoil and slap at it.

“No! Don’t touch me.”

Kylo rolls his eyes.

“Then how am I supposed to _help_ you?”

“I—you know.” Hux inclines his head.” You have that...that _thing_ of yours. Use that.”

Kylo knows he means the Force. For whatever reason, Hux dislikes speaking of it by name, as if that would lend it more credibility he wasn’t willing to give up.

“Alright. However you wish.” It doesn’t matter to Kylo either way, really. He’s just as adept with using the Force as he is with using his body.

Now accepting, albeit begrudgingly, Kylo’s assistance in the situation, Hux tosses away the pillow and returns to his previous position. He grabs the top of the headboard and spreads his legs, opening up his hips as wide as he can. His belly hangs beneath him, curving out beneath his visible ribs like he’s gorged himself on a large meal, and indeed if not for the unusual tautness and pale pink stretch marks across the underside it could perhaps be explained away as such.

Kylo freezes momentarily as he’s once again confronted by the general’s ass, this time getting a better look at it than he had when he’d first entered the room. He wishes could admire it all—the delicate, rosy cheeks, not to mention the glimpse of smooth, _hard_ cock between his legs—for longer, maybe even get his mouth on the tender flesh exposed to him, but he knows he needs to stay focused on the task at hand.

Kylo kneels behind Hux on the bed, resisting the urge to touch him as he hovers his hands over his hips, instead probing forth with the Force. He feels about inside of the general, searching for the source of his pain and frustration and quickly coming upon it.

“There’s two, they’re trying to come out at the same time,” Kylo murmurs, curling his lip at how painfully Hux’s insides constrict around the pair of eggs, “do you want for me to help them along? Or let you do it on your own?”

Hux makes an uneasy noise in the back of his throat, before managing a reply.

“H-Help them…”

The weakness in the general’s voice is so _appealing_ , so unlike his usual tone. For a moment Kylo wonders if he should just shove them both back up, maybe use his power to keep it inside Hux until he’s satisfied with his suffering, until he could never possibly forget how Kylo could use this humiliating secret against him. But it felt cruel, even for _him_ , and while he didn’t care to know the details of Hux’s true biology, messing around with it could result in more damage than he intended.

So Kylo complies with the request, carefully shifting one egg backwards. Hux grits his teeth and whines at the unnatural movement, but breathes a soft sigh of relief when a bit of the painful pressure inside him lessens. Now the eggs start to move again with the natural rhythm of Hux’s contractions, funneling down what Kylo assumes must be his birthing canal. His eyes widen as the general’s hole twitches, then starts to proper stretch out around the slick, red tip of the egg.

Kylo watches as, millimeter by millimeter, more of it pushes out of Hux. The general puffs his cheeks out, clearly more comfortable now that there’s no more blockage inside of him, and within the minute the egg pops out, quickly followed by the one immediately behind it.

Kylo manages to catch one in his palm as the other falls into the nest below, and is a little surprised at how warm it is. Hux had said they were infertile and lifeless, so perhaps he’d expected them to feel colder, less promising. The warmth might only be residual from their development in Hux’s body, but either way it feels oddly comforting to hold them in his palm. There’s a weightiness that reminds him of the handle of his saber. But Kylo can’t dwell on it for long, and he puts the egg back in the nest and wipes the fluid off his glove and onto the bed, before returning to assist the general.

“Should’ve just summoned the damn medical droid…” Hux whimpers, fingers dragging through his hair in a stressed tic, before returning them to the headboard. He hangs his head miserably between his shoulders, and he lets out a tight sniff.

“You’d rather have cold forceps stuck up inside you? Or worse?” Kylo frowns. At least his power allowed for a little more _finesse_ than the blunt appendages of a droid.

“I’d rather...not have you here at all... _alas_ …” Hux moans, a contraction shivering through his body as it prepares another egg for birth. “Have to be... _flexible_ …”

“Don’t you mean elastic?”

“You—don’t you _joke_ at my expense, Ren,” Hux spits, before digging his teeth into his lower lip as more eggs shift into place, the intervals between contractions shortening as the laying progresses at its usual pace.

A litany of swears spills from Hux’s lips with each wave of pressure and fullness, exponentially increasing in volume and creativity. It seems like he’s growing exhausted as more and more eggs slip into the nest beneath him, the hands holding onto the headboard visibly trembling with effort. Kylo wonders how many are still inside of him, prodding around in Hux’s belly with the Force. He finds only a few remain, yet with the general tiring they may need to work quickly to get them all out before he collapses completely.

“Do you need to change position?” Kylo offers, his hands hovering closer Hux’s hips, prepared to move him if asked. But a fierce, rheumy eye glares at him in response, and Hux swats away the offered hand.

“If I need to change position then I’ll change position _myself_ , thank you,” He snaps, returning his hand to grip at the headboard. “Just...keep quiet, and use your Force-thing to help if there’s an issue.”

Kylo relents, resuming his monitoring of the eggs inside Hux. Two more slip out with ease after an especially mighty push, sliding into the nest to clack alongside their brethren. With little else to do except ensure nothing goes wrong, Kylo finds himself growing distracted, letting his eyes rove along the length of his co-commander’s laboring body.

 _Honestly?_ It’s almost entrancing to just watch Hux. The way he rocks back and forth, like he’s following some rhythm intrinsic to his whatever species he descends from. The way he presses one hand to the slight swell of his lower belly, as if to help guide the eggs inside of him down his tract. The way he bites his lower lip and squeezes his eyes shut in focus. The way his glistening, pink hole gapes and flutters with each desperate contraction.

It’s—almost a little erotic, if Kylo’s being honest with himself. Especially with how Hux flushes down to his chest, his back and shoulders shining with sweat, his hair mussed and wispy. It looks like he’s in the middle of getting fucked raw, rather than essentially giving birth. Even the smaller eggs are wider around than his cock, so Hux could easily take Kylo if he just decided to slip inside.

Not that he wants to fuck the general. But _if_ he wanted to, it’d probably feel pretty good.

Kylo can even sense a little bit of arousal radiating off of Hux, with the walls in his mind now even more thinned by the effort of birthing. Though not without discomfort, passing the eggs doesn’t seem entirely unpleasant. After all, they press up against all the sensitive parts of Hux’s insides, those spots best stimulated with sexual penetration. Kylo wonders if that’s a specific feature of the reproduction of Hux’s species, or merely a happy coincidence.

He figures it might help to grasp the stiff little cock hanging between Hux’s legs and give it a nice squeeze, and he almost wants to just _do_ it, because the general would never agree to such a thing if he asked first. But Kylo stays the twitching in his fingers, holding back his lust as he watches Hux gasp and moan and push out yet another egg into the growing clutch.

Ten minutes and two more, average-sized eggs later, Hux’s belly looks substantially less inflated than it had when Kylo had first intruded, and yet the general still labors, puffing harried breath through his lips. Even so, they _must_ be close to the end. Kylo shifts on his knees, leaning further into Hux’s space.

“Is this the last?” He whispers, noting how the general’s body trembles with exhaustion.

“I...I think so...?” Hux feels around his stomach. “It’s...it’s always hard to tell how many are inside.”

“Why not go to the medbay and find out? It might make things easier,” Kylo says, watching the general’s fingers. Surely the _Finalizer_ ’s medical staff is equipped with the proper imaging technology. It seems like there’s a lot of tools Hux could utilize to make this process a lot less difficult on his mind and body.

“I told you. It’s not like I’m pregnant,” Hux chuckles grimly, dropping his fingers from his puffy belly. “They’re husks. They don’t matter. I won’t treat them like _real_ children.”

“Who said anything like that? Just get a couple tests done. It’ll probably help you deal with this better.”

“ _No_. Not—not even the medbay’s records have this on file.” Hux shakes his head. “The Order _cannot_ have a half-breed for a general.”

Kylo knows Hux won’t be convinced to change his mind. They’re alike in that respect, too stubborn to take help if it injures their pride too deeply in the process. Though perhaps Hux has a valid point—the Order’s xenophobic proclivities aren’t exactly a well-kept secret.

Kylo clears his throat, thinking he should say something, though he’s terrible with words, to abate the general’s negativity. But suddenly Hux doubles over, nails dragging down against the headboard as his entire body tenses and trembles worse than before.

“Oh stars,” Hux cries, voice cut deep with pain. “No, I can’t, I _can’t_ , it’s too large…”

“What is it?”

“I _can’t_ , it hurts, I’m going to _pfassking_ tear apart!” Hux wails, wrapping his arms around his chestand curling in on himself. His body shakes, muscles clenching all over. Alarmed, Kylo shifts closer. He can see fresh tears start to bead in the corners of Hux’s eyes, his lips parting in panicked pants.

“Come now. You just need to push, like all the others.”

Hux shakes his head frantically.

“I can’t! This one is different, it _hurts_ , I can’t! I’ll bleed! Oh, _hells_ —”

Kylo hesitates, debating what to do. Hux had said not to touch him with anything but the Force. But he’s so agonized, so distracted by his own exhaustion, Kylo thinks he’ll forgive him if he uses _all_ the strength given to him to help.

“No you won’t. Easy.” Kylo sits up on his knees behind Hux, one hand slipping around the general’s waist to press against the lower part of his belly. He palpates the spot lightly with his fingers, feeling the bulge of the last egg. He concentrates, reaching out with the Force as well, conceptualizing the size and shape of it in his mind. Hux is right—it is large.

But together, Kylo’s sure they can handle it.

“ _Shh_ ,” he soothes, rubbing his fingers into the tensed muscles of Hux’s abdomen, “you need to relax. It won’t come out when you’re so tightened up.”

The general bites down on a sarcastic retort, instead whining behind his teeth as Kylo comforts him. His hand continues stroking gently over Hux’s overstressed middle, careful strands of the Force running over the exhausted muscles, trying to give them new vigor. He even—in a daring moment—trails it over the smooth underside of Hux’s cock, hoping the ghostly stimulation might help. To his relief Kylo feels the general gradually start to relax, his hyperventilation abating thanks to the careful ministrations.

“ _Nngh_ …” Hux groans, more sweat shining on his face as he bears down on the last of his clutch. Kylo closes his eyes and envisions himself gently cradling the egg still inside of him, seeking the easiest means to dislodge it. He continues to soothe Hux’s muscles and surreptitiously stroke his cock, hoping the combination of comfort and pleasure will help.

Finally it pays off, and the egg starts to move, pushing through Hux’s slick innards towards his hole. The general lets out little cringing noises as it shifts with each fluttering push, but Kylo senses far less panic in his mind than before, replaced instead by focus on this last effort. _It’s almost over_ , he feeds into Hux, _you’re doing so well. Almost done._

Kylo presses closer, his chest nearly molding to Hux’s spine, once the egg is nearly at his entrance. He rubs a calming crescent into his belly beneath the navel, his other hand securely holding the general’s hip.

“Push, now. One more,” Kylo whispers against Hux’s ear, waiting for him to breathe deeply before pressing down with his fingers _and_ the Force just as the he clenches his muscles. Kylo trembles in concentration, eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on Hux, on the last egg inside of him, on the combined strength of their efforts. A tense cry starts to brew in Hux’s lungs, steadily increasing to a scream of exertion in time with Kylo’s now silent, mental encouragement—and then the pressure suddenly releases, like a pulled plug, and the egg slides through Hux’s hole, falling beside its brethren with a wet _pop_.

Hux collapses against the bed when it’s finally free, heaving short breaths as he digs his fingers into the blankets. His eyes fall half-closed and unfocused, tongue lapping against his wet and bitten lips, cock soft between his thighs. He shakes from tip to toe, muscles twitching minutely in the aftermath of such a momentous effort.

Kylo lifts his hand away and carefully withdraws the Force from within Hux, allowing one last gentle brush against the man’s temple, a whispered _good job_ before he leans back to look at the nest of eggs in the center of the bed. He quickly counts—there’s _ten_ of them, some larger than others, but each smoothly shaped and glimmering the same speckled shade of red. They almost look like they retain a gentle but lively glow though Hux said they were infertile, and Kylo almost thinks to test it, to command the lights in the bedroom to dim, but reconsiders. He looks back to Hux.

The general has rolled over onto his back, eyes now fully closed as he takes deep, relieved breaths.  One arm lays splayed out to the side, while the other rests across his belly. His fingers knead absentmindedly into his abdomen, as if confirming that _yes_ , all of the eggs are out.

“See? Wasn’t so bad. A lot of them were actually pretty small.”

Hux snorts weakly, not bothering to open his eyes.

“They certainly didn’t _feel_ small.”

“Would they get bigger if they were fertilized?” Kylo asks, suddenly mourning the loss of Hux’s round belly. It looks far sadder now, deflated and sagging against his slim frame. He wouldn’t have believed it before, but Hux looked far more appealing with some additional weight.

“I haven’t the faintest idea, and I’m not intent on finding out.” Hux pulls a face. “It’s difficult enough to pass the infertile ones.”

Kylo shrugs. Hux is prone to hyperbole, especially while under stress. He doesn’t think it would be too bad, especially not if Kylo was with him, like he was this time. Though that begs the question of what would end up coming _out_ of the fertilized eggs. Suddenly, he has a vision of little, Hux-faced offspring poking their heads out of the cracking shells and letting out inquisitive trills, and he’s not sure how to feel about it.

“What, _uh_ …” Kylo gestures vaguely to the clutch. “What do you do with these ones?”

“Incinerate them,” Hux replies flatly. “I don’t want them near me once they’re out.” He frowns and raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

Kylo shrugs.

“I dunno. They’re kind of...nice?”

“Nice?” Hux props himself up on his elbows, glaring with disgust. “They’re not _baubles_ to display in the parlor. They came out of me, for stars’ sake, they’re vile.”

“I was just...never mind.” Kylo turns his eyes away from the clutch, back to the spent general. “Do you need...a bath or something?”

Hux narrows his eyes.

“I’d rather _not_ be covered in birthing fluid for the rest of the cycle, you’re correct. But your part in this is over.” Hux waves him off. “And you’d best forget everything you saw here, if you know what’s good for you.”

Kylo’s not sure he could ever forget the sight of the Order’s top general, on his hands and knees, pushing eggs out of his asshole, even if he lives to be centuries old.

“Alright,” Kylo says anyway. He decides to get up from the bed then, but doesn’t move to leave. Hux raises his eyebrow as he gingerly sits up, clearly trying to suppress his winces of pain.

“Well? Get going.”

“Not yet. I want to make sure you can actually make it to the refresher.”

“What?” Hux hisses, glaring daggers at him. “Of course I can make it! I’m not an infirm child!”

“Show me, then.” Kylo takes a step back from the bed, and crosses his arms. “Show me you can make it to the refresher on your own, and I will leave.”

Hux snorts, defiant, and rolls to the edge of the bed. He plants both feet firmly on the floor and levers himself up using the corner of his nightstand. He puffs out his chest, smug and satisfied when he stands up, his knees shaking only slightly.

“See? You aren’t needed at all anymore.”

Kylo waits until Hux takes a step forward, then lunges to catch the general as his legs give out and he nearly hits the ground.

“ _Mm_.”

“Quiet,” Hux hisses, face flushing deeply. He pauses, before clearing his throat. “I suppose, if you must do  _something_ , then you can help me to the refresher.”

Kylo smirks, letting Hux lean on him as helps him back to his feet. He’s tempted to just hoist the general up and carry him to the refresher, as Hux’s reaction would no doubt be amusing, but instead he merely supports his weight as they shuffle along. Hux winces under his breath, body exhausted and achy from the aftermath of the laying. Kylo keeps his one hand on Hux’s waist and the other supporting his forearm, just in case his legs give out again.

Just as they’re about to leave through the door, Kylo glances back over his shoulder, to the pile of enticing red cradled in the nest of blankets. He purses his lips curiously.

Maybe while the general is soaking in the bathtub he’ll take another look at those eggs. After all, if Hux is just going to have them incinerated, surely he won’t care if _one_ is missing.

**Author's Note:**

> Kylo, eww. 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


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